"
"Well, then, we will pass to this card--V.V. 341. It is rough
cardboard. Have you any of the sort in the house?"
"I don't think so."
Holmes walked across to the desk and dabbed a little ink from
each bottle on to the blotting paper. "It was not printed in
this room," he said; "this is black ink and the other purplish.
It was done by a thick pen, and these are fine. No, it was done
elsewhere, I should say. Can you make anything of the
inscription, Ames?"
"No, sir, nothing."
"What do you think, Mr. Mac?"
"It gives me the impression of a secret society of some sort; the
same with his badge upon the forearm."
"That's my idea, too," said White Mason.
"Well, we can adopt it as a working hypothesis and then see how
far our difficulties disappear. An agent from such a society
makes his way into the house, waits for Mr. Douglas, blows his
head nearly off with this weapon, and escapes by wading the moat,
after leaving a card beside the dead man, which will, when
mentioned in the papers, tell other members of the society that
vengeance has been done. That all hangs together. But why this
gun, of all weapons?"
"Exactly.
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